on a wednesday in new england

i'm hearing things
violent cows mooing in the woods
and i can feel the big toe
on my left foot
creaking as i walk
nonchalant
in the opposite direction
from the disturbed bovine festival
between trees and bramble

foux da fa fa

Zombies Are Coming

be prepared.

a discovery

i could share the words and meanings
of every song in a dream

to

my love, my loves. lovers, my dreamers and wanderers.

amongst city blocks and foreign whispers
in culling and cooing accents

to a dance

to a cadence and a sculpted

episode, scripted to warrant all of our secrets.

new fruits

plucked from the watering hole
the light weight posture
of diversity and collage therapy
through mesh wire netting and fairy-tales

we sat silently watching
a movie play off dvd

egg shells

a tough outter skin
cracked and worn

with the fatigue
brought on by responsible

nature and throughful gestures
towards underserving wonderers

marching to a proverb
of inditerminant origin

in my sleep we dance
to the emptiness left

when all the sound
is in murmurs